


Why Are Humans

by pikkugen



Category: Humans Are Space Orcs (Meme)
Genre: Canon-Typical Silliness, Gen, Loss of Limbs
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-14
Updated: 2019-12-14
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:26:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21790789
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pikkugen/pseuds/pikkugen
Summary: Notes from the log of an Issthian Health and Relations Officer on a trip with some humans. Slightly edited by both the author and the translator. Note: None of this is authorized Human Knowledge from the Galactic Archives of Oldaria, so any inaccuracies cannot be held as the norm for this species. Reviews are possible.(The human translator wishes to notify the reader that all this is completely plausible, if you'd only check the actual human archives from Earth, you dimwits.)
Comments: 8
Kudos: 116
Collections: Humans Are Space Orcs, Yuletide 2019





	Why Are Humans

**Author's Note:**

  * For [redsixwing](https://archiveofourown.org/users/redsixwing/gifts).



Day 14, Health and Relations Officer Sss-Hissthsh of Issthian vessel S-5930, personal log

I suppose I should keep some notes on our confusing new humans. 

Our ship is a mixed crew of Issthians, three Carbari and a handful of humans. We Issthians are all of the same pod, as is proper, but since pod Sss has diminished since the incident with the Xhazali and now consists of only our five podmates, it has been deemed necessary to include other beings into the personnel in addition to the other beings who are working for their travel pass. 

Our cook Oolaa is a Carbari, and another Carbari, Cruolu, works at the docking, and yet another is on the security duty with my podmate, Sss-Ththth. They have been working with us for several rounds. Very calm and reliable, as all Carbari are.

Dave is also an old hand on this ship, a calm sturdy engineer who mostly stays on the engine deck fixing anything and keeping the old engine running. Their newest apprentice is Dimitri, or Dima; they're an odd one as they come, tall, lanky and almost mute. Dave explains away their oddities as ”he's Russian”, but that can't be all of it. The ship is old but mostly reliable, at least with Dave in the engine deck, and the pod has prospered enough that a new ship might be procured at some point. Who would have thought that taking in a few wandering humans would have proved out to be so good for business? 

Jenny came in at Wadakh, five days ago, but they've been on this ship before. They're everywhere. We got some Flibbs there too, on their way to their next station. Just because they have built most of the waystations across the Galaxy, they think it's okay to hitch-hike on any ship from one to another... but they're neat travelers and always pay for their expenses in good Galactic Union currency. 

Hayley, however, is a quite different case.

They sweet-talked their way to the ship via the cook Oolaa, and I am certain that has never happened before. The grumpy cook doesn't talk much with anyone, but Dave explains Hayley's success away as ”She has charisma, that one!” and laughs. I have resolved to find out what this elusive ”charisma” is. 

I have been observing the humans in the ship, since the others give me very little trouble. The humans seem to be mostly talking constantly, because they have no telepathic connection not being podmates. (Dave keeps insisting that not even same-pod humans know what's going on in the other's head, but I remember well Dave's apprentice helping fix the engine. Dave stared at the part they had taken out of the thing, grunted, and Dima placed a tool on their hand. They nodded, applied the tool, and Dima had another at the ready when Dave had finished doing whatever they were doing. I had put it all down to them communicating on a different wavelength, but Dave claimed Dima just had talent fixing engines.)

The Carbari express themselves verbally and also visually, as their facial feelers change color according to their sentiments. Their language is quite simple and its basis is easily learned, but the application of their colored feelers can confuse us Issthians occasionally. Our color vision is limited, but humans seem to have no problems with the Carbari. This morning I saw Hayley with a small deck of colored cards, fixed together from one corner, flicking deftly one and then another from the deck while ordering their breakfast from Oolaa, and the Carbari answered flashing their colors, and then Hayley made the laughter noise and patted Oolaa on the paw before taking their tray to the table with the travelling Flibbs and continuing their conversation with them. 

I observe the humans a lot. Since I am the relations officer on the ship, it's my job to make sure everyone is comfortable, healthy and agreeable. Dave had been my measuring stick before this, and I had concluded that the humans' reputation for flightiness and rash decisions must have been just malicious slandering. Dave has been on the crew for two turns, and has never done anything overtly rash or frivolous. They have done some small miracles to keep the old engine together, but that was all just their skill and their quick reflexes. And the fact their deft upper limbs reach incredibly far into the recesses of the engine.

I remember the day Jenny first came on board one round ago. It was an unremarkable waystation in a distant corner of the galaxy, on a spot where no habitable planets were within easy reach but near a natural wormhole terminus, so traffic was constant and need for refreshments for both beings and ships acute. The Flibbs had seen the opportunity, built another of their waystations, and were prospering. 

Jenny sauntered to the docks, greeted me with passable Issthese, and asked for passage. I had called for Dave, because I didn't know at the time whether humans traveled well with mixed pods, and observed as our solid engineer greeted the other human like a long lost podmate. 

Later they explained they didn't know each other, they were just happy to see another human being. They had sat up together late into the sleeping cycle drinking something cooked by Dave on the engine deck and exchanging stories and making the laughter noise that had worried me at first. It had been the first time I had heard it, and it had scared me for being so loud, but Dave explained that it was an expression of joy and sociability on humans. 

The next day I wondered at Dave why the two were so different it was easy to tell them apart (my podmate still has trouble telling our Carbari apart when they're not in their ordinary stations or in their designated work uniforms), but Dave told me Jenny was female, younger than they, and of different ethnicity than they, and these factors explained their apparent difference. We had a long conversation about human variety, and I felt like deleting my archives about humans altogether. Even the Carbari are far more simple to understand as a species. 

Then Dave took Dima under their wing, as their saying goes (but humans don't have wings! I have to research if they have had those in some earlier evolutionary stage) and they have been aboard ever since. And as I said before, on our last stop Hayley came in. Well, stole in. With the food crates. Within them, if I've understood properly. Oolaa seemed rather amused by the fact. 

Hayley seems to be the stereotypical human that all the space stories tell about: reckless but lucky, clever but silly, easygoing but complicated. They seem to be joking constantly by making references to certain aspects of human culture I don't know about. The other humans mostly make exasperated noises at their references and call them a 'nerd'. Have to find out what that means. 

An example: Hayley was at a compartment door, when Dave was coming through carrying something heavy. Dave cried, ”Can you open the door for me, Hal?” and Hayley answered with a very calm, emotionless voice ”I'm afraid I can't do that, Dave” while holding the door open. Dave groaned in frustration and muttered, ”Nerd”. Hayley answered, ”Takes one to know one, Dave,” still in that calm and emotionless voice, grinned widely, and went their way. Sometimes I don't understand humans. Correction: It seems I never understand humans.

Day 20, Health and Relations Officer Sss-Hissthsh, personal log

It seems I have made friends with Dima. Yesterday I happened to sit next to them on the half-day meal and gave them my dessert, as I'm not too fond of pela fruit. Dima, on the other hand, seems to love it, so they have decided I'm their friend. I don't mind, but their friendship seems to consist them following me at every break and telling all about their hobbies back home in Earth. Every one of them sounds vaguely terrifying to me. Their family grows these large, apex-predator-class beasts, that are used in various activities called ”sports”. Apparently the beasts are attached on various contraptions in order to perform these ”sports”, and Dima has been somewhat of a ”champion” in handling the beasts. One of their favorite ”sports” is something called skijoring, which sounds as dangerous as it probably is. 

Today I mentioned our next stop will be in Tlik, which is only barely suitable for living temperature-wise. The Tlik-ee who live there have something in common with humans, namely the fondness of dangerous things. It appears they have a creature much like the ”dog” of humans, and they too race with them. Dima got more excited than I've ever seen a human be. They asked me too many questions to answer, and I had to find them a data package about the activity Klarp-plor and then they disappeared completely from common spaces for a few days.

Day 28, Health and Relations Officer Sss-Hissthsh, personal log

What is it with this ship and the Xhazali? They attacked AGAIN. We were far enough from their area of influence, there were no incidents reported in this sector of space, but they attacked us. We weren't too worried, we have upgraded both our stealth tech and our weaponry since the last encounter, but this time they managed to creep inside our radar and engage directly, trusting that we Issthians are bad at hand-to-hand. Which we are, but for that we have the Carbari. And, to our great surprise, the humans. 

My podmate Sss-Ththth sounded the alarm, and Pronn, the security Carbari, came lurching in. Their huge arms and paws can usually intimidate anyone stupid enough to try and mess with us, but today we were facing the Xhazali, and as everyone knows, they're vicious. 

Pronn made a noise, and suddenly all our four humans were there behing them. Dave was tapping a huge wrench against a hand, Dima was holding a length of a metal pipe like a club (to my relief they at least looked a bit scared), Jenny toted a bag of steel nuts and a strange contraption of steel rods and rubber bands, and Hayley was brandishing the largest kitchen knife we had. For a moment they stood like that, the couple of Xhazali standing on the hole in the hull hesitating, and then Jenny did something too quick to see and somehow sent a steel nut bouncing off the first attacker's skull plate with a sounding crack.

The attackers roared, three more Xhazali jumped into our ship, and then it was mayhem. Five against five seemed like evenly matched, but in just a few blinks all five Xhazali were neatly knocked out and trussed into harmless packets. Dima had got a bump in their head and Hayley had a deep gash in their arm, but otherwise all of us were unharmed. Then some more Xhazali came in, probably alarmed by the sounds. 

Pronn was panting hard. The Carbari usually move slowly and their spurts of action take a lot of energy, Pronn would need to rest before taking on any more attackers. Oolaa was strapping on a battle harness in order to take their place, but the humans yelled something and attacked again. The audio from the cargo bay surveillance is garbled at this point, but it seems all of them had their own war cries. Hayley's was the clearest, they yelled ”FOR THE HORDE!” and brandished the knife while attacking one of the Xhazali from a low point. I couldn't fathom why they would do that – the Xhazali don't have any vital organs that low – but then I saw them make a couple of slicing motions on their legs and down they came. I wonder how Hayley knew?

Unfortunately Hayley received another crushing blow in their already wounded arm. It was bad, their red vital fluids splattered around in a wide arc as they turned and slashed the attacker. Dave finished their Xhazal with a sturdy heave from the wrench, and went to Hayley to examine the wound. Soon I heard my comm calling. 

Oolaa had finally gotten their battle harness on and they went in to pacify the situation, but the humans had already dealt with the last standing Xhazali. They threw the (unconscious, some probably dead) enemies back through the hole they came in from and proceeded to seal it off. The Xhazal ship detached and took off without further attempts at us. Oolaa carried Hayley up to my stations and laid them down on the table, but Hayley was still claiming: ”Let me at 'em! By the power of Grayskull! Gotta catch'em all!” I had to pry the knife off their good hand very carefully.

Dave came in with them and talked Hayley down from it. I have heard of humans' combat mode, but I have never seen it, and honestly it terrified me. Dave held their undamaged hand and spoke to them calmly and rationally, and made gestures towards the damaged hand at me, so I approached gently and looked at it. 

I had taken a course in human physiology and medicine before Dave joined us, but mostly I had to rely on the UD, which had been updated by human doctors. So when I looked at the heavily bleeding, broken appendage and placed the UD's sensory limb over it, I didn't expect to do much else but to administer some meds and probably some stitches. 

The UD beeped and pointed at three different places to press in order to stop bleeding. One of them was directly over a gash that was spurting thick bright red blood and showing some disgustingly white shards underneath, so I skipped that one, but the one point on the upper arm seemed to help. The spurting diminished. I applied an IV pack on Hayley's other arm as instructed, because they seemed to have lost a lot of blood and that was apparently a bad thing? They couldn't take compensatory liquids orally or through their skin like us? Bad planning, I thought. Then the UD changed its predicament. 

It had found that the osseous support structure in Hayley's lower arm was completely shattered. I asked them to make a fist, as suggested, or just to move the fingers, and they were unable to. They screamed while trying and then went completely responseless and limp. I looked at Dave, horrified that I had killed them and that the UD was broken or worse, wrong when it came to humans, but Dave just shrugged and said, ”She's fainted. Better that way. Is the hand warm?”

I stared at them, but touched the peripheral appendage with utmost care. It was cool, lifeless and limp, and seemed to be very pale compared to Hayley's otherwise pleasantly earthy skin. On closer look it seemed to be hardly attached any more.

”Was afraid it would,” muttered Dave and turned the UD's screen towards themself. They tapped some diagnostics into it, waited a few seconds and turned the screen back to me. I gasped. 

”You have to amputate it,” said Dave. ”Both arm bones and a lot of the smaller ones are shattered and the veins are mushed. If we were in Earth, a surgeon MIGHT be able to save it, but here she'll do better without it, and at least there won't be gangrene if we're lucky. As soon as it's healed I'll print her a new hand.” 

My brain had stopped working at the word ”amputate”. I wondered dully why Dave was suggesting we kill their companion, but got another shock at ”healed”. 

”It will... heal?” I didn't even process ”printing a new hand” at that moment.

”If we're lucky,” they shrugged. ”But you must be quick. The gangrene will set on quickly or she will bleed to death. No anesthetics in that thing, I guess?”

I went to the med replicator and punched in a question. It showed me a list, but each substance came with a warning of adverse reactions and a list of side effects. I couldn't help making a small whine. 

”She isn't allergic to anything, just pick one,” said Dave, their voice still calm and rational but even I could hear the tension in it.

I ordered a dose of the first one with Hayley's weight and main genetics applied, administered it via a mask and watched the UD confirm their vitals and their state. The UD's sensory limb produced a laser knife and I whimpered. 

The stink was terrible as the UD's laser knife cut the useless appendage neatly off, cauterizing the stump cleanly and then another utensil sewing the skin over it, and I threw the greyish spoiled leftovers to the disposal chute trying not to breathe. Dave made the UD inject a good dose of some drugs and changed the IV bag, and then they gently smoothed Hayley's hair away from their sleeping, sweaty face. They covered them snugly with a silver thermo blanket and turned the lights dimmer. 

”She'll be fine,” they said, patting my limb, and I remembered the humans considered it a calming gesture among themselves. I can't understand how they could be so calm. 

The other humans were just outside the health stations' door, looking worried, and to my slight surprise Oolaa was there too. Dave assured them Hayley was fine and would ”be up and running in no time,” although why they considered physical exercise necessary right after what Hayley had been through I couldn't understand. Dima and Jenny seemed to accept this as normal, though. 

Day 30, Health and Relations Officer Sss-Hissthsh, personal log

Hayley has woken up. One of our humans or Oolaa was always sitting next to them, but Dave happened to be there when they woke. Dave explained them what had happened and promised to print them a new hand, and Hayley seemed a bit shocked at first, but otherwise took it surprisingly well (”At least it's my left hand, and not right.”) They argued for a while what kind of hand Dave would print for them, Hayley wanted a tentacle, but Dave insisted that the first prosthesis should be the ordinary kind so they would learn to use it, and later on Hayley could order a tentacle if they so wanted. I was stunned. Losing a limb was apparently common enough among humans that they had a way of producing artificial copies of appendages, even those of a different species! 

Hayley complains about something called ”ghost pains” which creeps me out seriously. Jenny sits next to them, rubbing different spots of their arm above the stump, while Hayley lies in bed with their eyes closed and explains how they can ”feel” the touch in different parts of the hand they no longer have. I checked, the disposal has incinerated the remains, so there should be nothing to left to feel, but at this point I cannot rule out the possibility of some kind of affinity between a human's body parts even after they have been detached. If they told me they can regenerate I wouldn't be too surprised. 

(They can't. I checked. The only larger parts that do regenerate are their teeth in certain phase of their adolescence, and certain tissues in certain organs at certain times, which have something to do with their reproductory cycle. Seemed quite disgusting, to be frank.)

Dave took measurements of the stump and commandeered our 3-D printer for the next cycle. They programmed it with a lot of code from the humans' own databank and some extra, and left the machine to print the parts during the resting hours. I had a look at it when I had checked on Hayley, and the things it was printing seemed somewhat horrible.I hope Dave knows what they're doing.

Day 31, Health and Relations Officer Sss-Hissthsh, personal log

The prosthetic hand that Dave has put together looks disturbing. It has all the same characteristics as a human hand has, except it's made of hard plastic and medical-grade tough silicone and some wiring. The color is close to Hayley's skin, but one cannot fail to see it's not natural. There are artificial joints that bend exactly like natural ones, there are silicon pads with electro-sensors on the fingertips to enable some sense of touch, and there are other pads against the stump that make neural control possible. And all this came as a 3d-printable information package humans have invented and freely share through their data channels. Hayley has learned to control the hand almost frighteningly quickly. They got the prosthetic this morning and within a few hours they learned to first operate it, then grasp things with it (surprisingly small things! Mugs! Spoons! Pens! Their hair! They can even pick their nose with it! They don't need to look at it to ensure it does what they want!)

For my species the fact one could stay alive with a piece of one's body missing is stupefying. It feels viscerally uncomfortable to see someone operate a foreign object in place of their own body part as fluently as Hayley does. The worst thing is that they have named it. They call it Handy. They wrote it on the middle section with a black marker.

And every other human seems to take it as natural. They groan a lot about the name, though. 

Day 38, Health and Relations Officer Sss-Hissthsh, personal log

We reached Tlik. Dima is excited to see the Klarp-slor sports tomorrow for the first time, and they have booked viewing places for all the humans and me in the competition. I'm flattered but surprised to be included. I suppose it will be an experience in human nature. If I can take the cold. Otherwise no incidents today. Except Hayley. I went to check on them to see if they can soon be working again (again a terrible thought: they will actually be able to work, even without a hand!) and found them lounging on their bunk, watching some human thing on their data pad. As I entered, they waved their stump at me and noticed the look of momentary horror on my face, looked for the prosthesis and said, ”Hey, could you hand my hand? I think I left it on the table.” 

I found the prosthesis on the table, picked it up carefully and gave it to them, and they slammed it on, saying ”It's Handy to be whole again, don't you think?” They wiggled the fingers of the contraption and grinned, and I couldn't help shivering. 

”What were you watching?” I asked them, and they turned the pad towards me. It was one of those movie things humans are so fond of; set in a desert, a human with a prosthetic arm was driving a large vehicle with several other humans in smaller, weirder vehicles following them. There was a very impressive dust storm following them. I said nothing as I couldn't see any relevance.

Later on in the canteen Dave was carrying dishes to the washer and asked Hayley to lend a hand, and Hayley took off the prosthesis and put it on top of the pile of dishes. Dave gave them a long look and a pained sigh, but Jenny laughed. 

Day 39, Health and Relations Officer Sss-Hissthsh, personal log

Dima had considered my intolerance for cold, and supplied me with some modified winter wear that humans use. I felt silly covering my leaflets and stems with thick woven fabrics, but it really worked. I was almost not cold at all. Some of my leaflets suffered of slight browning, but I'll live.

We queued for a while out in the cold before we were let into a row of booths, each admitting four. We were five. Dima smiled widely under their strange hairy hat with flaps and said it was okay, they had arranged so they could partake the competition by themself! I was terrified, but the other humans cheered loudly and made scary noises. (Dave explained they were happy and supportive.) 

The klarp beasts were led out before the booths. They were huge, hairy, with horns and fangs and claws, and everything in them screamed ”DANGER” in large script. Dima and the other competitors went to pick their beast, and Dima just sat down amid the snarling, cavorting, terrifying beasts and reached out their hands. I expected blood and snapped, ground bones, but it appeared that was exactly the thing to do. The beasts crowded on them, slathering them with slobber and hair, and the Tlik-e managing them grunted approvingly and let Dima choose their beast first. 

They chose a huge black klarp beast with striking purple horns and yellow eyes. The Tlik-e quickly harnessed it in a small contraption of leather strips as Dima tied something looking like flat planks on their feet. They grabbed the leather strips in their hands, nodded at the Tlik-e and turned to the starting line. As the other contestants lined up with him and the beasts snarled at each other, I was sure I'd see my human friend for the last time. Surely the savage beasts would turn on the contestants at some point, or some other mishap would occur? 

The Tlik-e by the starting line threw some kind of flying contraption in the air. It made a howling noise as it fell, and all the klarps perked their ears and they and their handlers shot out through the snow. 

The track fell downhill from the start and climbed again towards the finish line. The beasts pulled their handlers in an unruly mob, some of them fell or got tangled in their straps and the loose snow got kicked up in such quantities that it was hard to see what happened. When the contestants (those who were still erect on their planks) emerged on the upwards slope, I could see Dima still among them. The audience roared, as well as the contestants and their klarp beasts. 

The uphill slope was hard to climb and some of the beasts were already tired. I could see through the flurrying snow that Dima was doing something interesting with their long legs, probably to make it easier for their beast to climb the slope, but whatever it was they weren't going to win. The first contestant was already at the finish line, incredibly fast. 

Dima came in third, and our humans went crazy. They yelled and waved and danced and threw their protective gear in the air. One would have thought Dima won the whole thing. To my surprise, the Tlik-ee in the audience also cheered liberally. Later on I heard it was extremely rare for any other species to even participate (I wasn't surprised), let alone be in the top four. Dima was considered something of a honorary Tlik-e because of it. 

When Dima finally came to our booth they were very red on the cheeks and flustered, and they couldn't stop talking about the beasts and the competition. Dave patted them on the back, Hayley and Jenny cheered and hugged them and even I was compelled to congratulate them. I couldn't understand half of what they said, they used such specialized terms that the limits of the unilink became apparent. The Tlik-ee offered to gift Dima the klarp beast that had pulled them in the race, but I had to decline it immediately, terrified, which didn't really surprise Dima but made them sad nevertheless. Jenny had brought their pad with them and recorded the whole thing, and though the image was choppy and almost nothing could be seen clearly, Dima was overjoyed to see it and they watched it on repeat the whole journey back to the ship. 

Tonight the humans are holding a celebration of Dima's achievement. They have invited me in as well. They all have promised to bring their ”specialities”, whatever that means, and I don't know whether I should be terrified or not. Dave specified later to me that it means mostly food and drink. As humans and Issthians are both roughly in the same Oldarian cathegory of D-6, I think most foods and drinks will be consumable for me, but... I'm still vaguely terrified. Dave still brews that solvent in the engine room, and they claim it's completely potable and good, but... it's solvent nevertheless! They distill it and use it to clean parts! If all their ”specialities” are of slightly poisonous variety, I don't know how I'll survive the night. 

Day 40, personal log (private) 

I'm still alive and verdant (barely). As the Health Officer, I should probably assign myself a few days in the solar chamber to recuperate. But all in all, the human celebration was... I'd say ”memorable”, but truth be told I can't remember too much of it. 

I arrived at the canteen as directed, precisely two hours before the night shift. Hayley and Dave were there already, fixing chains of paper strips on the air ducts and setting up some kind of device. Jenny popped in soon after me, carrying a tray of some soft brown cubes covered with a brown sticky substance and something small and colorful (they call them ”sprinkles”), and Dima arrived a little late, still blushed and excited. 

The humans attacked Dima immediately and placed a pointy paper hat on their head yelling and cheering. It sounded so much like their war cries that I was afraid for a moment, but Dima took it all in stride, smiling shyly and thanking everyone. There was a large variety of foods to sample, although I had to check every one of them with a scanner just in case. I tried to be as inconspicuous as possible, but no one seemed to notice (or care). I liked most of the comestibles, especially the brown cubes, or ”brownies”. There was a large bowl of mixed fruit juice, and when I wondered aloud why they didn't serve it in individual bottles as usual, Jenny told me it was traditional and a unifying experience, and I consumed several cups of it before noticing that Dave had poured a generous amount of their solvent into it. After that the night became a little fuzzy to me. 

We watched Jenny's recording of the competition again, reflected through the device onto the white canteen wall, and Dima explained all the phases and turns again and again. We cheered as they came to the finishing line again. The humans sang a weirdly ritualistic song to Dima, they seemed to know the words by heart, and then they watched a compilation of other, shorter recordings of skijoring and then a lot of other recordings with music compiled to strange, choppy imagery and varying humans, some singing and some dancing, in strange clothing. I may remember wrong, though; this was after my fifth cup of the solvent-laced fruit juice. In hindsight I should have stopped drinking it then.

At some point the humans started to dance again. We Issthians have certain religious dances, and many other species dance in formal occasions, but the human way of dancing is as reckless and primitive as they themselves are. I suppose their music is part of it. I certainly blame the solvent and the deep-bass, fast music for joining in the dance when Hayley and Jenny pulled me in and started to writhe and bend themselves in the most outrageous manner. Dima shoved some ”moves” that made everyone cheer at him, and even the stoic Dave took a few turns with Hayley. When I started to imitate their movements, shaking my leaflets and twisting my limbs, they cheered at me and started to clap their hands rhythmically. I admit I was so intoxicated by their acceptance that I continued a good while, until I started to feel a bit sick. We Issthians aren't made for shaking and twisting as vigorously as humans. 

They continued for hours. They stopped to eat something (now I understand why everything was in bite-sized portions) or drink a cup of the vile fruit juice, and they returned to the dancing. Their stamina is scary. I had to leave after a few hours, and everyone was quite understanding, but this morning I found out that they had continued until Oolaa came to cook the breakfast. Then they helped Oolaa to clean up, went to sleep for a couple of hours, and continued their work as if they had had a good eight-hour sleeping cycle as they usually do.

Truly they are a scary species. I'm glad they're on our side of the Galactic Union. I'd hate to have them go against us.

Day 50, Health and Relations Officer Sss-Hissthsh, personal log

We arrived at Anamba, and Hayley plans to hop off to catch a ship closer to Earth space. I'm sorry to see them go. Despite their creepiness factor they have proved to be a good solid friend and an interesting testimony of the humans' incredible stamina and resilience. 

They hugged everyone before leaving and gave away some little gifts ”to remember them by”, although why I should need a pin in the shape of a weird brown terrestrial animal with a pointy hat to remember them by I just can't understand. Hayley said it had come all the way from Earth with them and it was a teddy-bear, whatever that was. I suppose I'll have to research this animal. 

(FOR ALL SOLAR GODS AND OTHER A-0 ENTITIES IT'S A TERRAN APEX PREDATOR THAT'S BEEN KNOWN TO KILL EVEN HUMANS. THEY MAKE SMALL IMAGES OF IT FOR THEIR CHILDREN TO PLAY WITH. WHAT IS IT WITH THIS SPECIES I CAN'T EVEN)

...perhaps it is a good way to remember them by. They lost a hand defending us, after all. 

It seems we're losing our cook, too. Oolaa is leaving with Hayley. All the humans smiled knowingly when they announced it, but I have been completely unaware they had any profound relationship. 

(Dave looked at me incredulously when I mentioned this. ”Oh well,” they said, ”you haven't been sleeping in the next cubicle of her. They were quite loud some nights.” I have no idea why that should be, but something tells me not to bring this subject out with Dave again.) 

I was there at the cargo port to see Hayley and Oolaa off. All the humans hugged them both, the Carbari did the weird salute ceremony they do to each other flashing their feelers, and then Hayley smiled dreamily and made a little speech. 

”I've seen things you people wouldn't believe. Attack ships on fire off the shoulder of Orion. I watched C-beams glitter in the dark near the Tannhäuser Gate. All those moments will be lost in time, like tears in rain. Time to die. ” 

Other humans made small, groaning noises and Jenny pressed a hand on their face, but I was again slightly terrified of the prospect of Hayley going off to die. Only when Dave said frustratedly ”Oh, you utter NERD” and went to hug them again I realized it must have been one of those things again.

”See you, space cowboy,” said Hayley softly, and then Hayley and Oolaa walked out of the ship, prosthetic hand in paw, and I saw all the humans wipe their eyes. Was there dust in the air, or were they reacting to an allergen? I have to ask Dave about it.

**Author's Note:**

> I love this meme and it was a challenge to try to fulfill your prompts of it! I had far too much fun writing, and I can only hope you had half as much fun reading it. Most of the aliens are from an ongoing space short stories compilation by me, so in a way I got to write some fanfic of my own characters and worlds, oops. Jenny Everywhere is an open source character that I've wanted to put in some story, hope you didn't mind me putting her in! Have a happy Yuletide! 
> 
> (Sorry about all the nerdisms. Or not.)


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